Voices never heard
by Morte Mistrata
Summary: Some names are instantly recognized. Others were buried underneath their fame. These are the stories of the forgotten, the dead and the gone. These are the stories untold, told by the voices never heard. Current chapters: Rue


Rue didn't like the way her dress let the sun kiss her legs, or how her mother pulled her hair into two pigtails. It made her look younger, feel younger than she already did. It was her first time at the reaping, first time with her name in the pool anyways, and she didn't even look the part. The others in her group were also dressed in clothing too young for their age, the effort of their mothers trying to keep them looking innocent making them all uncomfortable in their reaping day clothes. She pulled her collar away from her neck, already slick with sweat when she felt someone slap her hand away.

District eleven's capitol representative, Ravina Deline appeared onstage, perfectly round afro dyed a pretty shade of pastel pink. Her dress looked like someone draped gauzy curtains around her body and set her onstage. At least she wasn't burning up in the airy gettup.

Ravina wrapped a hand around the mic and brought it to her face, a wide smile awaiting the camera's attention. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen for coming out here today to celebrate the beginning of another Hunger games. Before we begin, we have a special message from the capital and your President Snow." She could've passed as one of us, had her voice been a bit more relaxed. She still spoke strangely, hints of the capitol accent still hanging from certain syllables. She probably was one of us at some point, to have remembered how few of us could actually understand the accent.

The yearly propaganda started to play on screen and Rue stared up at them, just like everyone else. She wondered who would get reaped this year. The kids in her age group were around her own size, or smaller. All of them were undernourished from years of giving their food to younger kids or older siblings in danger of reaping. The thirteen year olds were slightly better off, having a year of extra rations between them. The older teens were much bigger. While all of them were lean and fit from lack of food and work in the fields, they had spent the most time out there and a lot of them had learned to fight, either for experience or from junkyard lessons.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we shall reap our tributes. May the odds be ever in your favor." She plunged her hand into the female bowl and then freed it, a small slip of paper caught between her gentle fingers. "Rue Stenberg, age 12." Ravina's voice shook slightly as she read the age. "Would anyone like to volunteer to take Rue's place?"

Rue waited for a moment for someone to say yes, to rush up onstage and smile, happy to have saved a younger kid's life. Instead, she heard nothing but the wind.

She felt sick, like she was about to faint from the heat, though she'd only done it twice in her whole life. Rue's stomach was twisting and she wanted to run. She wanted to go home, but her legs wouldn't let her. A peacekeeper appeared behind her and gently guided her to the stage. She walked as directed and waited. The sun beat down on her still and she couldn't see her Mom's face in the sea of people below the stage. She took a deep breath, and her head calmed a bit.

"...on up, Thresh Montgomery, age 18." Rue's blood ran cold as he walked onstage. The Peacekeepers eyed him carefully, fingers already on the triggers. Thresh was huge. He was tall enough to block the sun from her face as he walked past and his stern, sun-burned face left her wondering who could possibly defeat him.

Ravina smiled and the crowd clapped mechanically. Rue thought she could hear her mother crying her name as they led her into the justice building, but she couldn't be sure.

Ravina disappeared as soon as she was deposited in the 'last rights' room, called so because most people who went through here never came back, affairs usually completed in that very room before they left. Her mother appeared inside a few minutes later, holding her little brother Abe on her hip, her four little sisters trailing behind her like little ducks.

"I'm sorry baby. I made you do it. I did it. I did it. I did it. And now, I'm sendin' you off to your death." Her mom's tears fell down on Abe's face as she cried, the baby crying with her.

Rue didn't blame her mother for the extra entries. She had to do it herself. She could've lied or refused or anything. But she didn't; she signed up thirty-six times for her sisters and brother and mom who couldn't work as long as she used to because she sent Man#4 away. Because of Rue.

She regretted that she had complained about Man#4. She regretted not telling them how much she loved them. She regretted not giving up more of her food. She regretted not eating more. She regretted fighting with her family, but she wished she had've fought more. She shook her head to push the thoughts away. SHe had the whole train ride for her twelve year old regrets to kick in.

She slid off of the uncomfortably soft chair and into her mother's arms. Her mom's soft brown hair smelled like home and as Abe quieted down, she wondered if she could make it out okay, for them. Her little sister Arlena stepped forward, her braids covering her eyes. She was the second oldest, at ten years old and now she'd be the one to help out with the babies, to cook dinner and breakfast and make the extra money, at least, until she could sign up for tesserae.

"I made this for you." She said in a small voice, in her outstretched hand was a small wooden star, hanging on a necklace of woven grass. "Try your best Rue."

The Peacekeepers came in then and she rushed to give them all a kiss goodbye. She was yanked away by an older man with no patience before she could tell her mom one last time: I love you. Somehow, she felt she'd regret it the most.


End file.
